I Ate Raw Bacon

I got home late last night after competition class. Jess was up waiting, so, although I hadn't eaten dinner, I tried to find something to quickly fill my belly.

Finding nothing, I downed two strips of raw bacon. There's a character in the novel I finished reading earlier in the day who did that, so that's where I got the idea. It was part pleasant, part un-. It also seemed to do the trick.

We also nibbled at my anniversary treat: I coated some pears, orange slices, and pretzels with chocolate. The Dufflebag helped me do it -- he seems to enjoy working in the kitchen. I lucked out with the navel oranges. They tasted particularly tart, sweet, and fresh.

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This morning, I thought about making a celeriac dish from the Henderson cookbook for breakfast, but didn't want to waste any time that could be spent writing. It's a half-day of school for the Dufflebag, so I only have two hours to shower, eat breakfast, and work on the novel.

I went instead for a bacon sandwhich, finishing the last of my Blood Farm rashers. I'm getting my technique down: low heat and constant turning. Today's was perfect, and I ate them with good supermarket bread, mustard, and baby spinach.

Once the fat cools, I strain it through cheese cloth to use later for cooking. I've gotten much better about conserving fats from cooking -- recycling, saving money, and adding robust tastes to the meals. I'm still saving the pork fat from the pull last weekend for a special occasion.

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That's it. Paltry fare on the blog front. But I've got to get to work. Check back later for updates.